


Speed Demon

by cazmalfoy



Series: Speed Demon [1]
Category: CSI: Miami, CSI: NY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Dark Danny, Dark Tim, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 01:55:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6591988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazmalfoy/pseuds/cazmalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been two years since the accident that took Speed away from them. So why did Horatio evidence of him being alive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speed Demon

**Miami – 2004**

Tim Speedle grabbed his wallet and keys before heading out of the door. He wouldn’t need his helmet. It was a Sunday, which meant less traffic than normal and the weather had been perfect recently so there was no chance that the road would be wet.

Just as he predicted, the roads were empty as he sped down them, whizzing by so fast that the buildings were nothing but multicoloured blurs.

He knew that he was going faster than was legal, but he wasn’t too worried about getting caught. The worst thing a cop could do was give him a speeding ticket.

Taking a right, Tim spotted a black SUV out of the corner of his eye. It seemed strange that it had stopped when the lights were green but, since he wasn’t working, he couldn’t bring himself to care, and he continued down the street.

Unfortunately, he was speeding by so fast that he didn’t notice the SUV pull out into the lane behind him.

He did however, notice when the front of the SUV clipped the back wheel of his Ducati. The bike was going too fast for him to correct himself and seconds later it flew to the left, crashing into a tree and throwing Tim into the ditch nearby.

The brunette winced in pain when his head hit the rocks underneath him. The warmth he felt at the back of his head told him that he was bleeding and needed help. But, no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get to his feet. 

When a stranger appeared over him he felt a rush of relief. "Help me," he croaked, his voice thick with pain.

The man smiled sadly, running a hand down Tim’s unshaven cheek. "I will," he assured Tim. "But you have to trust me."

The brunette frowned, trying to work out what the man was telling him to do. But through the clouds that were fogging up his brain, he couldn’t make sense of the words.

"That’s it," the blue eyed man whispered. "Let go," he repeated. "I’ll save you, Tim."

The fog was getting thicker now and the temptation to close his eyes and wait for the inevitable was too strong. Within a few moments his eyelids had closed as his heartbeat slowed.

~

**Miami – 2006**

Elliot Michaels grinned at his classmates as he downed a shot of tequila. It was his twenty-first birthday and his friends had really out-done themselves. Together, they had somehow managed to pull enough strings to have a moonlit party on the beach with as much alcohol as their bodies could take.

Elliot was already well on his way to being completely drunk, but he didn’t care. It was his birthday, the one day of the year that was all about him. No one could ruin it even if they tried.

At three in the morning, the cops finally decided that enough was enough, and no matter how many people his friends knew it was time for them to take the party home. Which was exactly what they were planning on doing. Susan, a friend of a friend, had parents who owned a condo a few blocks away from the beach and she suggested that they headed there instead.

It had been funny watching Jake and Matt stagger off of the sand, with their arms around each other as they desperately tried to keep their balance.

However, when he tried to move and found that the ground shifted violently below him, causing him to fall on his face, things didn’t feel as funny.

Elliot heard the sand shift under someone’s feet and he rolled his eyes, instantly wishing he hadn’t as the world span faster.

"I’m fine, honest," he slurred.

"I thought the officers told you kids to leave the beach," a different voice said, one Elliot didn’t recognise.

He looked up and squinted, trying to see the other’s features in the moonlight. "We are… have," he added when he realised that his friends had already left him alone while he had been getting up-close-and-personal with the sand.

"You shouldn’t be out here by yourself," a second voice said from behind him. "It’s dangerous," he purred, crossing the sand toward the first figure.

"Very dangerous," the shorter of the two agreed, wrapping an arm around the other’s waist. "You never who you might meet."

Elliot’s eyes widened when the first stranger held his hand out. He tried to form a scream, but terror prevented him from making a sound as an orange ball of fire appeared from nowhere in the palm of his hand.

He tried to scramble to his feet, but again the sand shifted underneath him and he went crashing back down to the ground.

"Please," he begged, his eyes wide and fearful as he got to his knees. "Don’t kill me."

The taller man laughed, it was a cold and horrible sound that sent icicles through Elliot’s body. 

"Kill him," he encouraged his partner.

"Gladly," the other smirked, throwing the ball of fire at Elliot, silencing the young man’s pleading.

~

Horatio Caine stood on the edge of the beach, his sunglasses firmly in place and his hands on his hips as he gazed out over the sparkling blue ocean. 

The beach was meant to be a safe place; a place where friends and families could come and relax, without having to worry about the stress of everyday life and the horrors that accompanied it.

Unfortunately for the young man lying on his back in the sand, it appeared that the horrors had followed him.

The redhead sighed wearily and crossed the sand to where Alexx Woods was already crouching next to the corpse.

 

"Do we have an ID yet, Alexx?" Horatio asked, crouching down in the sand next to her. He knew that he was close enough to observe what she was doing, but still far enough away to not hinder the African-American woman’s work.

Alexx patted the pockets, withdrawing a wallet and a few coins. She handed them to Horatio before reaching into her kit.

Horatio flipped the wallet open and pulled out the kid’s driving licence. "Elliot Michaels," he read. "Seattle licence." He glanced at Elliot’s date of birth. "Twenty one years young… yesterday."

"Not much of a birthday present," Alexx commented dryly, withdrawing the liver probe and glancing at the digital display.

"Time of death, Alexx?" Horatio questioned, getting to his feet and dusting a few stray sand particles from his black trousers.

"Based on liver temp and rigor, I’d say that this poor kid has been here since at least five am."

"Five am," Horatio repeated, putting his hands on his hips and drumming his fingers against his badge.

"Something wrong, Horatio?" Alexx frowned, looking up at the Lieutenant.

"I’m not sure…" he mused. "Mister Wolfe?" Horatio addressed the newest member of his team. "What time was the body was reported?"

"Nine-forty-five," Ryan answered, crossing the sand, carefully following Horatio’s steps to ensure that he didn’t disturb the crime scene.

"The question then becomes, how does a body go unnoticed on a public beach for almost five hours? Mister Wolfe, keep up with the photographs. Thank you, Alexx."

Calleigh was processing the parking lot on the edge of the beach. Her long blonde hair was hanging loose over her shoulders, swaying slightly in the light breeze.

Her crime scene kit sat open at her side, allowing her easy access to her tools.

"What do we have?" Horatio asked, coming to a stop just ahead of her.

Calleigh glanced up, flashing him a bright smile before turning her attention back to the curb in front of her.

"It looks like…" she reached into her kit, "some kind of goo." Horatio raised an eyebrow. "What?" she asked innocently. "I won’t know what it is, or if it’s even connected, until I get it back to the lab."

Horatio smiled. "Keep me posted."

The Lieutenant was almost to his Hummer when Calleigh called after him. 

"H?" Horatio turned and looked at her questioningly. "What do you think killed him?"

"That’s what we’re going to find out," he replied, unlocking the door and sliding into the driver’s seat.

Leaning back against the leather he sighed; he had a feeling that he knew what the murder weapon was. Today wasn’t the first time he had seen such a wound on a corpse. But every inch of the redhead was hoping that he was mistaken.

~

**Shore Club – Miami**

Danny Messer tossed the key card on the dresser, grinning to himself. There were a lot of rich people staying at the hotel; and preying on the rich was almost as fun as preying on teenagers and innocents.

The bathroom door was open and he could hear the running water in the shower. He smirked and toed his sneakers off, kicking them to one side as he entered the bathroom.

His lover was standing with his back to the door and didn’t notice Danny’s arrival until the blonde had stripped off and slipped in to the shower behind him.

Danny took his time preparing the other man; delighting in running his fingers over those spots that made his lover gasp with pleasure as he slowly entered the taller man’s lean body.

~

Alexx locked up at the observation room where Horatio was watching intently. Something was bothering the redhead; she didn’t have to be a CSI to notice that.

The African-American glanced down at her table and sighed. Yet another young man, taken from this life too soon.

"Anything, Alexx?" Horatio’s voice spoke through the headset she was wearing.

Alexx chuckled. "Just got here and you’re already making demands?"

Horatio smiled tightly. "I’m just eager to find the monster that did this to him, Alexx."

"I think monster might have been the correct choice of words for this," Alexx whispered. "The wound is unique in shape and size. I’ve been doing this a long time, Horatio and I’ve never seen something like this."

The Lieutenant pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger; a migraine was brewing in his brain just behind his eyes, he could feel it.

Alexx pulled the shirt back and examined the wound further. "The flesh on the inside of the wound is charred but there are no burn marks on the skin around the wound."

"Is there evidence of a struggle?"

Alexx took Elliot’s hand in hers. "There was something under his nails; I already sent a sample to trace, but I think it’s just common beach sand."

"Which could have got there by simply falling over on the sand." Horatio looked up when he heard the door behind him open. "Mister Wolfe," he greeted his CSI.

"Homicide just called; we’ve got another body." The young man glanced down at Alexx who was merrily carrying on with the autopsy. "The MO’s are the same."

Horatio nodded his head, throwing one last look over his shoulder before following Ryan out.

~

Jonathon Wilkes lived on a quiet cul-de-sac in Coconut Grove. Horatio suspected that the area didn’t get many visitors from police, if the neighbours on their lawns were anything to go by.

There were three patrol cars and a CSU Hummer waiting on the street when Horatio pulled his own Hummer up to the house.

Eric Delko was pulling his kit out of the trunk as Horatio climbed out. "Hey, H," he greeted.

Horatio nodded and made his way down the path, noticing how the perfectly manicured lawn was now looking shabby and worn; which probably had something to do with the dozen or so police officers who had trampled in and out of the house.

Detective Jefferson wasn’t someone whom Horatio had worked with on many cases, but her reputation preceded her and Horatio knew that she would put one hundred percent into the case at hand.

Just like the previous case, Wilkes was lying on his back; his lifeless blue eyes staring up at the cream colored ceiling tiles. 

A Medical Examiner was crouched next to the body, and busily dictating notes to his assistant who then jotted them down on the clipboard in hand.

"Doc?" Horatio questioned.

"Lieutenant," the ME replied. "The wound is fresh, only a couple of hours old. The inside is strange it looks like it’s charred…"

"But there are no burn marks around the wound, right?" Horatio anticipated.

The ME nodded in agreement before indicating to his assistant to write his observation down.

Eric set his crime kit on the floor and pulled out his camera. "I’ll get started," he said quietly, taking some pictures of the wound.

"Okay." Horatio turned and surveyed the room in the hope that he would discover something out of the ordinary; other than the dead body in the centre of it.

Unfortunately, it seemed as though Horatio’s hopes were in vain as the room was immaculately tidy; everything was in it’s rightful place and every surface was polished to a point where he could clearly see his reflection as he passed.

He paused in front of the window, tilting his head to one side as he studied the pane of glass.

"This place reminds me of Ryan’s work station," Eric commented, stepping up next to his boss. "Too clean. I didn’t get any prints, not even smudges."

Horatio chuckled distractedly. "Do you have your flashlight?"

"Sure." Eric reached into his back pocket and placed the light in Horatio’s hand. "You find something?"

Horatio thanked him and turned the flashlight on. "I’m not sure," he murmured, focusing the beam on the window. "And there we go." He stepped to one side so Eric could see better. "What does that look like to you?"

Eric squinted and leant closer. "It’s a hand print."

"That seems out of place in such a tidy house, doesn’t it?"

The Cuban-Russian man nodded and moved to get his kit. "It’s smudged," he informed Horatio. "AFIS is going to have a hard time with it. We might get lucky."

"This is top priority, Eric. This guy is rapidly accelerating and we need to stop him before he kills again. Keep me posted."

"Gotcha."

~

Horatio was just leaving the trace lab when Eric returned after processing the scene.

"Hey, H. I managed to get a workable print from the window at the condo."

"That’s good, Eric," Horatio smiled.

Eric flashed a grin back at his boss. "I need to run this through AFIS…"

"Why don’t you take a break?" the supervisor suggested.

Eric frowned. "I thought this was a hot case."

"It is… it is…" Horatio put his hands on his hips. "I just think you deserve a break after working the scene alone." He glanced at Eric apologetically, "I did leave you in the lurch earlier. I’ll run this for you."

~

"You what?" Danny shouted.

The other occupant of the room glared at him. "You heard me," he snapped.

"Yeah, I did," Danny nodded. "And it sounded like you said something about leaving your fingerprints on the window."

"It was an accident, Danny!"

"A stupid accident that is going to make this whole thing very messy." Danny sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Caine is not going to let this go once he finds out."

"I can fix it," his companion assured him.

"So can I." Danny shrugged. "I’ll kill Caine."

"If you do that, you’ll attract the attention of the entire MDPD. I can get the results easily."

"Before Caine sees them?"

"I can try."

~

Horatio leant back on the couch in his office. His mind was reeling from the events of the day.

He couldn’t believe that, after all this time, Tim was still alive. The finger print match was all the proof the redhead needed. When they hadn’t found his body a state-wide search had taken place. Not one single police officer had been able to figure out what happened, and Tim’s file had been placed with the other cold cases.

Horatio sighed and waved his hand wearily. Several feet away, the door which had been slightly ajar, slowly closed with a soft click. It was past midnight and most of the lab was empty, save for the few staff that worked Night Shift.

He knew that he should go home and get some rest, his body was exhausted and the couch was suddenly starting becoming to seem very appealing. But, he also knew that there was no way he’d be able to shut his brain down. There were so many unanswered questions that he couldn’t get his head around.

He sat forward when a figure appeared at his desk. He didn’t need to be able to see the other man’s face to know that the new comer was the very person he thought deceased until recently.

"You came back," Horatio commented casually, getting to his feet.

Tim quickly turned around in surprise. Horatio saw that his hand was at his side, a fireball held in his palm. 

"It figures you’d be here at this time of night," Tim muttered, extinguishing the fire. 

Horatio watched the brunette take a folder from the desk. "Is this the evidence from the condo murder?" Horatio nodded and Tim flipped the folder open. "You got a match from a fingerprint found on the door frame," Tim read. "It’s a match to a dead man," he informed the redhead.

"You’re not dead," Horatio pointed out.

Tim laughed, tearing the results page from the folder. "Tim Speedle is dead," he repeated, incinerating the paper in his hand. "Well…" he brushed the ash away. "The Tim Speedle you knew is dead, anyway."

Horatio looked at his former colleague sadly. "What happened to you?" he eventually whispered.

"I almost died," Tim answered nonchalantly.

"How?"

Tim shrugged. "Some maniac ran me off the road. It was a good job Danny was there to save me." He looked at Horatio curiously. "You didn’t seem surprised when I arrived just then."

"I wasn’t," the Lieutenant admitted. "Although the demon part did throw me for a moment."

"So, you know I’m a demon," Tim mused aloud. "How?"

Horatio grinned a little. "You’re not the only one with secrets." He waved his hand and the file that was still in Tim’s hands returned to the centre of the desk.

"Well, that’s different," Tim stated, leaning toward him over the edge of the desk.

"Why did you come back after all this time?" Horatio asked softly. "You’ve been gone for so long, everyone thought that you were dead."

"And that was how it was supposed to stay," Tim replied.

"But you killed Jonathon Wilkes…"

"So that’s what he’s called," Tim mused aloud.

"And now you’re destroying evidence."

"I knew you wouldn’t understand," Tim rolled his eyes. "You’re just like every other half-breed. Consumed by your morality."

"I never said I was a half-breed," Horatio pointed out.

"You didn’t need to," Tim shrugged. "I can tell that one of your parents was magical… Your mother was probably a witch."

"What about you?" Horatio folded his arms across his chest. "You worked in the lab for eight years and not once hinted that you could have a demonic side."

"That’s because I’m only half demon," Tim said slowly as though he were talking to a small child. "My father was a demon. He was weak and fell in love with a human. The result? A hybrid demon-human mix."

"So all this time you’ve been pretending to be something you’re not?"

"You’re one to talk."

Horatio tilted his head to the side, studying Tim. "Have you been hiding your demon side for the past ten years?"

Tim rolled his eyes. "Not that it’s any of your business but, yeah I was hiding. Not because I wanted to blend in with the humans, fuck that! It’s the last thing I ever wanted to do," he scoffed. 

"My Father was killed by your kind," he spat. "Killed because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was only five years old."

"Why are you telling me this?" Horatio asked softly.

"Because you asked," Tim pointed out. "My mother raised me. I was brought up around humans. Suppressing my demonic side was easier because it was all I knew."

"But now the monster is loose."

Tim stood upright, looking directly into Horatio’s eyes. "I am not a monster!"

Horatio folded his arms across his chest. "Oh, really? That’s what you look like to me. All I see is a coward who has killed two innocent people."

"More than two actually," Tim corrected casually.

"This Danny person clearly brought out the evil in you."

A fireball appeared in Tim’s hand in the blink of an eye. "Don’t you dare!" he hissed.

Horatio’s brow furrowed in thought as he took in Tim’s sudden change of demeanour. "This Danny must mean a lot to you; your reaction is enough proof."

"You need to leave this alone, Horatio," Tim picked the file up with his free hand. "Chasing ghosts won’t give you peace."

"I’m not chasing a ghost."

"Let it go," Tim repeated slowly.

"You know I can’t do that. It’s not in my nature."

Tim set the file back down and extinguished the fireball. "Danny will kill you if you don’t." Horatio shrugged. "He’ll kill you without a second thought and move on to the next state."

"Tell him to meet me then," the Lieutenant suggested coolly.

"You’re not listening to me. Danny will kill you," he stated, emphasising each word carefully. "And I can’t let him do that…"

"Then stop him."

Tim chuckled and conjured another fireball in his hand. "I think you misunderstood me. I can’t stop Danny from doing something once he sets his mind to it. And, if I were being completely honest, I don’t think I’d want to. You see, Danny and I have an agreement. We clean up after each other and we watch out for each other. If you’re after me, you’re after him as well… And I just can’t let that happen."

"So you’re going to kill me?" Horatio’s voice was full of disbelief. 

Tim threw his hand forward, causing the fireball to fly outward. Horatio watched as it sailed straight past him and landed in the nearby trashcan.

"Drop it, Horatio," Tim snarled. "Or next time I won’t miss," he promised as he disappeared.

~

Danny was pacing the hotel room. He didn’t pace. Pacing was a habit for people who suffered from nervousness. Danny had never felt nervous before in his life; and as he was one hundred and seventy years old, it was a very long life.

He didn’t know how humans could stand it; the feeling of dread he felt making him ill and he was pretty sure his stomach wasn’t supposed to be in knots.

The pacing stopped the instant he saw Tim appear in the room. "Well?" he demanded.

"Hello to you too!" Tim glared, pulling his jacket off. "It’s done," he sighed, sitting down heavily on the bed.

"You killed Caine?" Danny couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. He hadn’t thought Tim would be able to go through with killing his old friend.

"Not exactly."

Danny put his hands in his pockets. "What do you mean by ‘not exactly’?"

"I destroyed the results," Tim shrugged, unfastening his boots.

"And Caine?" he asked wearily.

Tim glanced over at Danny, avoiding his eyes. "What about him?"

"He’s still alive isn’t he?" Tim’s silence told him all he needed to know. "Damn it, Tim! Caine was the threat, not the fucking results!"

"I know, okay?" Tim snapped. "What do you want to do? Lie to you? Tell you that Horatio is lying on his office floor with a gaping wound in his chest? I couldn’t do it, alright?"

Danny sighed and crossed the room, crouching in front of Tim. "I’m sorry," he whispered. "I knew asking you to get rid of him would be too difficult for you."

"That wasn’t the problem," Tim insisted. "I…" he fell back on the bed, "I don’t know. Something inside me was telling me not to do it."

Danny smiled and crawled up beside him. "That was the human inside of you. We always knew there would be a small part of you that retained your humanity."

Tim turned onto his side and looked into his lover’s blue eyes. "What are we going to do?" he whispered.

The other demon kissed him softly. "I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it."

~

Eric slowly wandered through the halls. It was still early and the lab was mostly empty, save for the few technicians who were pulling in some over time while they could.

Horatio’s Hummer was parked in it’s usual spot at the front of the building but so far he hadn’t been able to find the older man.

The blinds that covered his window were closed, as was the door. But when Eric pushed it open, he saw that Horatio was sitting on his couch, staring into space.

"H?" Eric’s gaze travelled to the foam filled waste bin. "What happened?" 

Horatio blinked in surprise, his eyes finally focusing on his CSI. "What?" he muttered, following Eric’s gaze. "Oh…" he ran a hand over his face. "It’s nothing; just an accident. Is there something wrong?"

"I came in early to have another look at the case; see if we got any hits off that fingerprint."

"We didn’t," Horatio lied. "I ran this print but…"

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by the high pitched buzzing of the fire alarm. Eric tossed a glance at the trashcan. "That can’t have set it off. It’s not lit."

Horatio nodded, getting to his feet and heading to the door. "It’s probably just a drill…"

Outside the building, Horatio double-checked that everyone under his care was present and accounted for. 

"Where’s Ryan?" Horatio demanded, not seeing the young man.

"He said something about processing the goo I found and trying to link the beach to the condo murder," Calleigh replied, putting her hand over her mouth as the doors burst open.

A gurney was rushed out with two EMT’s on either side, quickly moving to the waiting ambulance. Horatio could see that Ryan’s head was bandaged and blood was rapidly seeping through the dressing.

The redhead pulled one of the EMT’s to one side. "What happened?" 

"Something hit him on the back of the head; there’s a lot of blood loss and he’s inhaled a fair amount of smoke," the woman informed him before climbing into the back of the ambulance and closing the doors.

Horatio’s blue eyes never left the vehicle as it pulled away from the building and sped off down the street.

"H," Eric said softly. "Ryan was processing evidence from both cases."

"And he was in the lab that caught fire," Horatio sighed. "This wasn’t an accident, Eric. Someone wanted that evidence to disappear."

~

Danny grinned to himself as he watched everyone pile out of the building. No matter how many years passed he knew that he would never tire of causing pain and misery to people.

He hadn’t intended to bump into anyone while he was destroying the evidence. Ryan had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time; Danny hadn’t even hit him hard enough to kill him.

He kicked the stand off and revved the motorcycle’s engine. He could not figure out what his lover found so intriguing about the machine he was sat on; they were annoyingly loud and not very useful in bad weather conditions.

But as he released the brake and sped out of the parking lot, weaving through the traffic, he had to admit that a motorcycle made getting away from a building he’d just set on fire, a hell of a lot easier.


End file.
